Hurdle race
by ultranahshedidnt
Summary: Sometimes you feel as though life is a hurdle race. JPLE through oc pov.
1. Hurdle Race

Sometimes you feel as though life is a hurdle race. James is the hurdler, you are the hurdle and Evans is the finish line. You would slow James down, but he would reach his destiny- _Evans_ -eventually. You know the sensible thing to do is break up with him. He is obviously in love with her and she loves him, too. But then again, so do you

You stare at James and Evans. At the lingering hands, brushing knees and bumping heads. _They are Heads now_ , you remind yourself, _they are just doing their job_ , but you can't stop staring. You wouldn't be the jealous girlfriend, you _wouldn't._ You groan, burying your head in your arms and let out a string of cuss words that would have made James proud. You look back up, they are still bent over that piece of parchment. You heave a huge sigh, and resign yourself to staring at Hogwarts' Head Girl and Head Boy for the rest of the evening.

(If you had bothered to look around you'd have noticed Sirius Black staring at you with something akin to pity.)

"How do I look?" Evans asks giving them a slow twirl. You look up from where you'd been pretending to read _Witch Weekly._ Evans looks brilliant. She is wearing a simple yellow sundress and her hair is in a knot. She and James have to hand in the patrol schedule today, the day also being a Hogsmeade trip and so they'd decided to meet up in Hogsmeade for butterbeer and to complete the schedule. Mckinnon and Macdonald had chosen Evans' dress and done her makeup and hair pretending it was because it was the first Hogsmeade trip of the year, but you know better. Mckinnon and Macdonald had been on the Evans and Potter belong together fan club since the beginning-not that there is such a fan club.

"You look fantastic. James won't be able to take his eyes off you."Mckinnon says. "No offence," she adds to you. You shrug-it is the truth after all-and brush it off. "Please," Macdonald scoffs. "That lad is nothing if not loyal, he'll tear his eyes out if that's the only way to keep from staring." Your gaze snaps to Macdonald, who raises an eyebrow as if to question your surprise. You open your mouth to retort but Evans shoots her friends a look and hastily making excuses they leave.

You get up and sift through your clothes, panicking. You don't want to be alone with Evans. She softly says your name. You do not turn around. Evans puts a hand on your shoulder. You have no choice but to turn around. You try to smile, the way Alice always did. "Yeah?" you ask, cursing your voice for being so hoarse in contrast to Evans' soft voice. "You really do look beautiful, you know." you add. Evans looks surprised. "Oh thanks," she says. "Listen, you _are_ alright with this, aren't you? Cancelling your date with James and all?" She asks and you respect her for it. You have seen her staring at James when she thinks he's not looking, the same way you stare at him, the same way he stares at her.

"Yeah," You tell her. "And sorry about Marlene," Evans continues. "She, well she doesn't think before speaking." You shake your head and attempt to speak lightly, "She was right, no bloke would be able to keep his eyes off you when you look like that. Hell, if _I_ was into birds I'd snog you right now." Evans blushes but shakes her head. "James can, if no one else." You are amazed when you can find only the slightest trace of bitterness in her voice. She forces a smile-which looks more like a grimace-and turns away from you, she speaks after a moment and her voice is the slightest bit shaky when she says it's time for to leave.

After she leaves you stare at yourself, you are pretty-James calls you beautiful-but nothing makes you stand out, you haven't got Evans' hair or eyes or ivory skin but your friends tell you that you are more beautiful than Evans can hope to be. Evans always says she's jealous of your hair and tanned skin but you think that is dragon dung. You sigh, you are no competition for Evans. Not just based on beauty, she is smarter, funnier and more courageous than you, too. You know that but you just can't seem to let go.

(If you hadn't been so absorbed in your thoughts you'd have noticed Mckinnon staring at you shame clear in her expression.)

You had been doing your work with him in the library when it happened.

You were absorbed in your work when you realized James who'd been bugging you to take a break had been unnaturally quite for the past ten minutes. You look up worried-quite James Potter never ends well. You see him and stifle a smile, he's fallen asleep, face buried in one hand, the other buried in his hair. His face is peaceful in a way it never is when he's asleep. _Another part of him only I get to witness,_ you think to yourself and for a moment it's all worth it-the sleepless nights spent wondering whether she's doing the right thing staying with him, the overanalyzing of his every word and the heart wrenching pain when he looks at Evans in a way you know he'll never look at you-and your resistance crumbles and you are just about to peck him on the cheek when he lets out a breath, it takes you a moment to realize that he's not sighing, he's saying the word Lily over and over and over. You look away and try to convince yourself he's talking about the flower lily, but you can't. You get up shove your things into your bag and rush out of the library, trying-and failing-to hold back the tears.

(If you'd been more observant you'd have realized that one of your _friends_ had been hiding behind the books and eavesdropping, already planning to gossip about it to her other mates.)

Your mates have been giving you hell for the past few days. They want you to break up with James, talking about some insignificant Ravenclaw who thinks you are cute-cute, not beautiful-calling Evans and James names and wanting her to confront James about the fact that he'd been calling out Evans' name in his sleep. But you don't, because you know more than anyone else that you can't choose who you love. You wish you could hate Evans because James is in love with her, but you can see the pain in her eyes every time she sees the two of you together and you know how that feels, so you don't. Maybe you are only a hurdle, maybe you've got only five minutes left with him, but you hang onto every moment because it doesn't matter, five minutes or five years, when they are with James they are equally precious.

 **Disclaimer: Not mine.**

 **So, this came up because I was trying to figure out a ship name for me and James, but I kept feeling guilty 'cause jily=meant to be. And then tada I found pen and paper and here it is. I didn't describe 'you' so that you'd be able to adjust according to your headcannons. So, this is new territory for me-second person-so review and tell me how it was. And also do you prefer those short drabbles or long oneshots? Review and let me know. Also ship names for me and James?**

 **-Love and thank you for reading,**

 **Lakshmi.**


	2. Choice

She stared at them, James Potter, Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew fighting-without their wands-Mulciber, Avery, Rosier _and_ Snape together and Lily Evans struggling against Remus Lupin who held her back with strength she hadn't expected of him-he was so _scrawny_ -knowing she would rush into the fray if he let her go. She wished she had their courage.

She looked at Sirius Black who'd defied his family, who'd purposely only dated muggleborns to piss off his mother, who'd-rumor had it-turned down the girl he fancied because she was a pureblood, who'd stayed so many years in a house he'd hated for his brother, who'd not hesitated to befriend the sickly looking boy who was Remus Lupin, who'd always been mean but never evil, never cruel, never prejudiced-except against Slytherins.

She looked at James Potter who'd-rumor had it-taken in Sirius when he'd run away from home, who'd offered him financial support and most importantly emotional, who'd not hesitated to befriend the underdog who was Peter Pettigrew, who'd always been there for Lily Evans whether she knew it or not, who'd always been cocky and clueless but had matured to a boy who surpassed even the Potter standards of bravery and sensibility-which were quite high.

She looked at Peter Pettigrew who didn't have a single bitter bone in him though his friends were better than him in everything except History of Magic, who followed James and Sirius around like a lost puppy but still had his own opinions and thoughts, who helped those who were bullied because he'd been, too, who brought the marauders food without a single complain because he was too loyal to them to even consider complaining, who'd tell people a story, his story, a story of a boy who'd grew up with the ladies his mum gossiped with and now was the one of the most popular boys in Hogwarts to give them hope.

She looked at Remus Lupin, who despite having such frail health and such a sickly family was always mild, who was not the kindest marauder, they were all kind they just didn't act like it, but the one most likely to listen, who had stood up for Peter when he'd been bullied against sixth years when he was twelve, who, for some reason, always seemed surprised that so many people liked him, who despite his mild demeanor would hex you within an inch of your life if you so much as insulted his friends.

She looked at Lily Evans who was struggling against Remus trying to jump into the fray despite all the boys being twice her size, she saw no fear in her eyes, who was an inspiration for all muggleborns, half-bloods and even purebloods, who didn't take anyone's crap, who hunted down and hexed Mulciber for what he'd done to Mary Macdonald, who was wise, kind and pretty and still fiery, stubborn and brave, who'd a tongue sharper than a knife yet still sweeter than honey.

She looked at them and thought how they deserved _so_ much more, how Sirius Black only needed to turn back to his family and say that he'd been misled and he'd be safe, how James Potter could stay neutral, how Peter Pettigrew an Remus Lupin could easily stay under the radar, how Lily Evans could return to her muggle life, but most of all how they don't because staying being safe would mean being separate and how because of that they stayed, in danger, in love, _happy_.

She stared at them and made her decision, she looked at Livvy and shook her head, no she wasn't going to leave Hogwarts and go to muggle University. It was strange that she chose danger based on the decisions of people she had never spoken to, who she'd admired from afar but never really dared approach. Years later she would shield Marlene Mckinnon from an avada kedavra and she'd feel ashamed that even as she jumped in front of the curse she was terrified, terrified of death. Marlene Mckinnon would stare, wondering who she was and why she'd saved her, she'd be crushed by a terrible guilt and would fail to see Rodolphus Lestrange sneak up on her and be captured, she'd suffer a fate worse than a simple avada kedavra. But even as she'd be tortured to insanity, forced to watch all her family die before her eyes and then killed, she'd never forget the face of the girl who'd saved her only to condemn her to a worse fate than before.

 **Disclaimer: Not mine**

 **So, seems like this is the crappy sequel eh? It was meant to be how they inspired her, but didn't turn out so well unfortunately. So please tell me how to get better. Thanks for reading!**

 **Shout out to** Kashlazy **who was the one who told me to write this albiet crappy sequel, so whose persepective would you like next?**

 **-Love,**

 **Lakshmi**


	3. Revenge

It had been a perfectly normal day. A family of three was sitting in a booth at an ice cream shop. The parents exchanged fond glances as they listened to their five year son old ramble about kindergarten. A seven year old, Laura and a nine year old, Noah became friends when he helped her up after she fell and grazed her knee. An old couple sat at the same ice cream shop as the family. They did what they did best; contemplate death and make up life stories for the people around them. A young girl of about thirteen yelled at her mother about never having time for her-something about which thirteen year old doesn't need a mom. Another young girl-this time of about sixteen-pulled an equally young boy with her into an alley and captured his lips in a passionate and heated kiss. Another couple argued about something trivial like jobs and long-distance relationships. A group of friends laughed and talked and teased each other.

The people went on with their conversations, exchanging glances, giggling and shouting. Until a voice interrupted- the shout even louder than the thirteen year old girl's whose voice was very shrill indeed. "You sold James and Lily to Voldemort, didn't you?" Everyone paused and turned to look in the direction of the voices. The family looked up; the child displeased by the fact that his parents weren't giving him all their attention began to weep. The parents quickly turned their attention to their son again.

The thirteen year old who'd begun to storm away from her mother stopped cold. Her mind went over terrifying scenarios in which kids named James and Lily were kidnapped and sold to Valdemart-that was the name he'd shouted right?- as slaves. She took a deep breath, she'd been planning to go and stay at Mary's for a day or two just to shock her mother a bit but that seemed petty now. She turned around where her mother was staring at her helplessly and decided to forgive her.

The two young couples barely noticed the shout, too caught up in each other. One slowly falling in love and the other slowly falling apart. One realizing that love is beautiful and sometimes all you need. The other realizing that sometimes love is not enough. The group of friends whispered to each other, too caught up in friendship and laughter to have time to ponder the rows of strangers.

"Voldemort? What kind of name is that?" Laura asked Noah, sniggering. "Don't eavesdrop," Noah said sternly. Laura gazed up at him with respect, he was so mature and he was nine years old-practically an adult-yet he had befriended her. But she couldn't let him think that she'd accept what he said without complain. So, she defended, "Well, if they didn't want me to eavesdrop they shouldn't be shouting their row for the whole world to hear." Noah gave her another stern look and she fell silent.

The old couple observed the person shouting, he was short and had mousy brown hair. His blue eyes were shifting around as though looking for an escape and if he _was_ looking for one, no one would have blamed him. The man he was shouting at was, quite frankly, terrifying. He was handsome, if you looked past the terrifying mixture of grief and anger and guilt flashing on his face. His eyes were a stormy gray, his long hair hung limply around his face and dark circles hugged his eyes like second skin. At the other man's words his eyes flash and to those watching, it felt like watching a thunder storm.

The man laughs, a harsh grating sound that made everyone who heard it wince. "Me?" he said with just the right amount of horror and incredulity. "Peter you-" Everyone ignored the rest of the row, wishing that the two men would just shut up already, but too terrified of the ugly look on the men's faces to say anything. The old man glanced up, he saw the man who'd been arguing with a woman about jobs-who he was almost sure were lovers-storm away, he sighed, he would have never left his girl like that. His attention was once again drawn to the two arguing men. The shorter one- Peter the other man had called him-whose back was to him was twirling a twig around in his hands. He strained his eyes, the twig was elaborately carved. Why would someone carve a twig? He wondered. It was his last thought, for he hadn't realized that the twig Peter was twirling around wasn't a twig, it was a wand.

Peter shouted something in Latin and then there was a huge bang. The kind that came when people fired guns in movies. The group of friends and the man who'd stormed away from his lover turned. The street had a huge crack in it, going down to sewers where rats could be seen. Everyone in the street had died. _Every fucking one_. That family of three, the snogging couple, the old couple, the two children, the thirteen year old and her mother and his lover. But the tall man was unharmed, shock etched in his features. Then he began to laugh. "Good one Wormtail, Prongs would have been proud."He muttered to himself, because Wormtail might have been a traitor but first and foremost he was a marauder and marauders could track each other down very easily. He stared at what Wormtail had left behind, a mess of blood and a single finger and vowed to take revenge. No matter how much time he had to wait for it.

 **So this is as crappy as the last one and I want to sob because Merlin, Circe, Morgana, why are endings so hard? Also titles. My mate is asking me if I can't write fluff, endings and titles than why do I call myself a fanfic author and all I can do is flip her off. Sorry about posting this piece of crap and feel free to flame me.**


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